Playin' Around
by stephaniew
Summary: Snapshots of a relationship - romance, friendship, humor, angst - something for everyone! A collaborative project with Mali Bear's Buddy, each story written in round-robin format. Dean/OC
1. Driving

A/N: This is the first in a series of one-shots I'm writing with **Mali Bear's Buddy**. We write them on Google Docs, trading back and forth as we go. We start with a basic plot and then just see what happens! We'll be trading off who writes whom, so see if you can guess who wrote what! We have a ton of fun doing it, so we hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

Special kudos on this to the aforementioned **Mali Bear's Buddy** as it was her idea to do this as a series. The plot for this was also her idea, so if you like, give her a shout out! (She has more ideas than there are stars in the sky...I'm not jealous though...much...) Please also go read her stories posted here as she has a many and varied selection! Do show her some love...for me...

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Supernatural.

Driving

Sophia spreads a map on the hood of the Impala as Dean pumps gas. She traces a route with the tip of her finger. He's just wrong. Flat out wrong. There is a shorter route. It irritates her. She's sick of being in the car with his ego. Tired of riding shotgun. All she wants a hot bath and a warm bed.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stares over the roof of the car, her eyes boring into him. She taps her foot impatiently. "Seriously?" she questions. "I thought you said this was the shortest way to get there. What the hell is your problem?"

Dean shrugs carelessly. "Looked short enough to me, sweetheart." He tosses her a smirk. "What the hell is _your_ problem? PMS?"

She snickers. "You didn't even look at the damn map, did you?" she asks. Shaking her head, she tucks her hair behind her ears and digs her teeth into her lower lip. "You're unbelievable. I can't believe I was dumb enough to stay with you and let Sam take my car. You wanna know what my problem is, Winchester?"

Gathering up the map, she walks toward him and presses it to the top of the car. "This?" she says, finger touching one spot. "Is where we were this morning. And this?" she adds, underscoring a second town with her thumbnail. "Is where we are now. Do you see my problem now, jackass? You're driving in circles!"

He shoves the nozzle back into the gas pump and tightens the gas cap. "I doubt that, sweetheart. I've been getting around for years just fine without you and I'm pretty sure I can get where we're headed without your help." He looks her up and down with a smirk. "Besides, why are you such a hurry? I know you enjoy my company more than that."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," she answers, rolling her eyes. "Give me the keys," she demands, holding out her hand.

"Not a chance...babe..." he says with a grin. "I barely even let Sam drive." He reaches out and smacks her bottom. "So why don't you just settle into that passenger seat like a good girl and we'll be on our way."

Using her body as a weapon, she traps him against the side of the car. She watches his brow rise as she stabs at his chest. "You gonna get us there before I'm 90?" she asked.

An older lady walks to the ancient Lincoln at the pump next to them. She smiles at the pair, chuckling and shaking her head causing her blue hair to bounce slightly. Gesturing between them, she asks, "How long have you kids been married?"

Sophia turns her back to Dean and smiles sweetly. "Oh, we're not married," she answers.

He slips his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. Flashing the old lady a charming smile, he says, "Awww, honey, come on. One little marital spat and you're trying to get rid of me?"

Ignoring Sophia's snort, he continues, turning up the charm. "We just got married a few months ago and sometimes she forgets, you know?"

Deciding she can use this to her advantage, she sighs sadly and leans in close. "It's easy to forget since you refuse to wear our wedding rings!" she pouts. Fanning her face, she sniffles, "I'm sorry... It's the damn hormones. I just wanna see my Mom and tell her about the baby." Shifting Dean's hand to her flat belly, she smiles over her shoulder. "I want you to be rested when you face Daddy. We promised we'd take care of each other..."

The smile falters just a bit, and his arm tightens uncomfortably around her. "Oh, don't worry, pumpkin, I'll take care of you later." His eye meet hers briefly, warning clear. "Trust me on that."

Sophia reaches up to pat Dean's cheek. "I know, love muffin, but you've been driving for hours and I just wanna give you a break..."

The woman looks at them, her hand fluttering to her heart. "You hang onto this one, son," she says. "She'll keep you on your toes! You should let her take care of you, she won't have much time after the baby comes." Opening her car door, she gives a little wave. "Y'all are such a cute couple! Congratulations on your little one!"

Turning to Dean, Sophia leans in close and brushes her lips over his. Her tongue snakes sensually against his and his arms go around her.

When he deepens the kiss, his mouth firm on hers, she grins slightly and slips her hand into his pocket. "You heard the lady," she says, holding up the keys. "Let the little woman take care of you."

Eyes looking a little glazed from her kiss, he frowns down at her. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he drags her mouth back to his, demanding more. Anchoring her against his body with an arm around her waist, his lips and tongue devour her. Distract her. Make her forget everything else.

With his free hand, he twists the keys from her unresisting fingers. Sucking on her lower lip, he murmurs. "I already told you, babe, not a chance."


	2. Confessions

A/N: Next installment! This one was also Mali Bear's Buddy's idea, but it did not go where either of us expected, which is the real fun of writing these things together on the fly. The characters tend to tell us what to say next and they don't always mesh with what we thought were going to do! We both hope you enjoy this! Please let us know what you think!

Much love to said partner in crime, **Mali Bear's Buddy**! She constantly inspires me and improves me as a writer and as a person. I'm honored to know her. Please go show her some love! She's got a lot of Dean/Jo stuff out there if you like that pairing!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural.

Confessions

Carrying two shot glasses and a pair of beers, Sam rejoins Sophia at their table. "This place is packed," he says, glancing around. He watches as Sophia downs both of the shots, slamming her eyes shut at the burn of the whiskey. "Whoa! Take it easy!" he encourages. "What's going on?"

"Only two?" she asks, waving a hand at the empty glasses. "I may be a girl, but I can't get drunk on two shots, Sam." With a sigh, she picks up one of the beer bottles and takes a swallow. "You should have gotten the bottle."

Sam leans against the back of the booth, relaxing his shoulders and stretching his long legs out under the table. He picks up the other beer, carefully eyeing the auburn haired beauty across the table before taking a long pull from its neck. "I give," he says. "What's he done this time?"

He watches as she begins peeling the label from her bottle, her eyes lowering as she leans her elbows on the table. She doesn't say a word. He wonders when he became a relationship counselor, but knows Sophia is good for Dean. "Or is it what he hasn't done?"

Still nothing. But she looks up at him and her expression sends him rushing to Dean's defense. "Look, Sophia, he's not good at feelings. But he cares about you. Just talk to him about whatever this is, okay? Please?"

She shrugs, eyes dropping back to the bottle in front of her. "It's no big deal, Sam. I knew what I was getting into with Dean and it's living up to my expectations." She takes another swallow of beer, setting it gently back on the table. "Besides, I don't expect you to be in the middle of this."

She pushes her chair back and stands. "Thanks for the drinks. I think I'm gonna go for a walk."

Sam stands and puts a hand on her arm. "Wait," he says, drawing a breath. "Look, I'm already in the middle. Dean..." he pauses, shaking his head with a lopsided grin. "...he's just..."

The look in her eyes makes his smile fade. This is serious. He guides her back to her chair and crouches in front of her, clarity clattering into his head like shattering glass. "You're in love with him."

Sophia's eyes close as she flinches, turning away from him. She snatches up his still more than half full beer and chugs it back. "We're gonna need more booze if you want to have this discussion, Sammy."

His fingers glide through his hair and he squeezes her hand. "Yeah," he answers with a wide-eyed gulp. "You gonna be here when I come back with the bottle?"

She nods slowly, rubbing a hand over her face. "Yeah, I'll be here."

Sam weaves through the people to the bar and pulls several large bills from his wallet. While he waits for the bartender, he pulls his Blackberry out of his pocket and sends a text to Dean. _Dude__, __where __the __hell __are __you__?_

He's paying the bartender and clutching the bottle when the reply comes through. _Don__'__t __get __your __panties __in __a __knot__, __Sammy__. __I__'__m __on __the __way__._

Shaking off the message, Sam turns the phone off. Dean could fend for himself. He needs to find out how much time they have left. Relief washes over him when he sees Sophia sitting at the table. He refills the shot glasses and settles back with a fresh beer. "How long?"

Tossing back the whiskey, she reaches for the bottle and pours another. She stares down into it for a moment before replying. "Probably since the beginning. But I knew for sure when we met back up after we took those separate cases."

She sips the new shot, swirling it in the glass in between as if it might give her whatever answer she's seeking. "I was miserable without him. And when we joined back up in Memphis..." She smiles softly at the memory. Looking at him from under her lashes, she says, "Well, you can imagine..."

Sam rubs his jaw. "I'd rather not imagine you and my brother," he teases. "Hearing you is bad enough."

She blushes and giggles, but grows serious again soon enough. Hand trembling slightly, she swallows more whiskey. "I don't know what to do, Sammy," she whispers. "I know he cares about me. And I knew what he was like when I started this." She shakes her head, trying to push back the tears now threatening. "But somewhere along the way, I lost my heart."

"Have you told him?" Sam asks even though he's sure he already knows the answer.

She looks at him as if he's lost his mind. "No, of course not. I can't tell him."

His brow furrows. "Can't? Or you're afraid to?"

Opening her mouth to reply, she quickly shuts it with a snap. Another shot of whiskey burns her throat. Scratching her fingernail in the grooves of the table, she considers her reply. "I'm afraid if I tell him, it'll scare him away." She shrugs. "And I'm afraid of what he'll say. Afraid he can't feel the same. Afraid we'll end up out of sync."

Eyes damp, she gives him a small smile. "You're asking me to expose a hell of a lot there, Sam."

Sam sighs. He begins to say something, but thinking better of it, gulps at his beer. "He's different with you," he tells her quietly. "Different than I've seen him with anybody. Ever." He sets the bottle on the table and waits for her to look up at him. "Even Lisa. And for a while I thought he was in love with her."

She snickers. "If you're trying to make me feel better, sweetie, it's not working."

He shrugs and takes another sip of his beer. "Nope," he answers. "Just being honest. I know you too well to blow smoke."

"Soooo," she drawls hesitantly, "you think maybe different means I have a chance?"

"Look," he says, leaning forward. "I know my brother better than anyone. As much as he's been through - as much as we've both been through - he's scared. Who knows if either of us could ever take the risk." He licks his lips, offering a slight smile before continuing. "There's one thing I'm sure of though."

Yet another swallow of alcohol. "Yeah? What's that?"

Reaching across the table, he covers her small hand with his larger one. "If anyone has a chance to get through to him, it's you."

Dean saunters into the bar clean shaven, hair slightly damp. He sees the look on his brother's face and the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table. What he can't see and what concerns him is Sophia. He sees her shoulders slump as she leans forward, watching as Sam's hand reaches for her.

"You moving in on my girl, Sammy?" he teases them both. The answering look in Sam's eyes is like being doused with ice water. "Jesus! Can't a man take a shower?"

Sam's brow raises as he draws his hand back. "It's been two and a half hours," he answers. "Even covered in ecto you haven't taken that long."

Sophia uses the brief distraction to swipe quickly at her eyes. She knows it's useless. He'll know something's wrong. She can already feel his probing gaze. The connection between them thrumming.

"Boys, boys," she says wearily with a casual flick of her hand. "Sit down, babe, and have a drink before I finish this bottle."

Dean slides into the chair next to Sophia. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he draws her close and kisses her temple, narrowly missing the look that passes between his brother and his girlfriend.

Sam's eyes scan Sophia in effort to determine her comfort level. He finishes his beer and silently prays Dean doesn't mess this up. "I'm gonna head back to the room and get a head start on the research," he tells them, waiting to see if Sophia objects.

Dean shakes his head. "All research and no play makes you real dull, Sam. You need to get laid."

Sam smirks, "Jerk."

Watching as Sam stands and grabs his jacket, Sophia rises and gives him a hug. "Thanks, Sam," she whispers.

"Text me?" he answers.

She nods, giving him what she hopes is a confident smile as she drops back into the chair next to Dean. She reaches for her glass, taking another sip for courage.

Dean snickers and shakes his head. "You wanna slow down? Where's the fire?" he asks, taking the glass from her hand and finishing the liquor himself. Caressing the side of her face, he draws closer and gazes into her eyes. His lips tease at hers softly, then more insistent. She tastes sweet beneath the whiskey and his tongue slips across her lower lip seeking more of her unique flavor.

Startled when she doesn't kiss him back, he shifts away. "Okay," he says, shaking his head. "What's going on? Are you and Sam..." He can't bring himself to finish the question. He knows what he saw when he walked in. Knows they're close. But it doesn't stop the pang of jealousy that stabs at his gut.

Her eyes widen and she stares at him, anger flashing across her face. She shoves at his chest, nearly knocking him out of the chair. "Are you kidding me? Did you just ask me if I'm fucking Sam?"

He grabs her, pulling her into his lap. His fingers lace into her hair as he sighs in relief. "Tell me you aren't going anywhere," he pleads. "Because if you aren't messing around with Sam, you're thinking about leaving."

His forehead lulls against hers, his hands roaming her back and pulling her to his chest. "Please, Sophia," he whispers against her lips. "Don't go."

Her heart squeezes painfully in her chest. She can't even begin to answer him. To answer what she hears in his voice.

So she kisses him instead. Desperate and almost angry. She clutches at the edges of his jacket as she devours him, completely forgetting where they are.

Finally, in need of air, she breaks the kiss, keeping her eyes closed. "Dean, I..."

His head spins. Oxygen deprived lungs suck in air and he fights the desire to drag her out of the bar...or worse, into the bathroom. "Come on, baby," he breathes. "Stay."

Her gaze makes its way to his. She tries to catch her breath, but the emotions swirling in his green eyes steal it away. "Why, Dean? Would it matter so much if I left?" She swallows hard, tightening her near death grip on his lapels. "You could find someone else to warm your bed."

"What if just somebody isn't good enough anymore?" he growls, tightening his arms around her. "What if I want you?"

The entire bar melts away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in their own little bubble of emotion. She searches his face, still not sure if she can take the chance. Not sure if offering him her heart is the right thing to do. If it'll bring them closer together or tear them apart.

Hedging, she whispers, "What if I fell in love with you?"

He licks his lips to keep his jaw from dropping open. Unsure of what to say, he answers the only way he knows how. Physically.

Anchoring her mouth beneath his with a firm but gentle hand in her hair, he kisses her. He pours every drop of emotion he can muster into it, searching and exploring her with his tongue.

There's a silent plea of understanding as he worships her lips. It isn't that he doesn't care about her. It's that he has no idea how to tell her. There've been too many times where words have meant nothing. Too many times when labeling feelings - even the mere acknowledgement of a brotherly bond - has gotten someone hurt.

His need for her and for everything she is consumes him. His heart is filled to bursting but he just can't push the words from his lips. "I'm no good at this," he murmurs, stroking her hair. "I don't know that I'll ever be good at it..."

Sophia's fingers tremble as they touch his cheek. "It's ok, baby," she says with a tremulous smile. "I understand..."

She brushes her lips gently across his. "Why don't you take me back to our room and show me?"

Grinning, he captures her lips again before dropping enough cash on the table to serve as a tip. "I think I can do that."

Standing, she reaches for her phone. As Dean wraps an arm around her and pulls her toward the door, she sends a quick text.

_Better __cover __your __ears __tonight_, _Sammy__... ;)_


End file.
